Track 63: The Broodmare

While Takafumi doesn't have a cock, he does have a tail and the little bastard keeps on giving him away! With stiffness, his new appendage wags and waves. Thumping loudly against the computer desk.

Each fleshy thwap sending Takafumi through the wringer of high school flavored memories.

Shitty afternoons jerking it in a public toilet. Crappy night under thin walls. Him and sex, him and his hand, only became real friends after he turned twenty. His family home more of an hotel than a real house. Obnoxious relatives and cackling neighbors jammed into every room and mat.

What need could he have, the Watanabe boy, for time alone?

There were a thousand reasons why Takafumi left his tiny hometown. The lack of space. The lack of respect. The need to work his member nice and slow without looking over his shoulder. And so, Takafumi doesn't feel unnerved by the words he's uttered to Cask, the phantom in his body. Because it is sex. Just sex. And it doesn't really matter who's the girl, right?

Silently, Takafumi thinks how long it will take. The sex.

Five minutes. Maybe twenty if Cask is lazy. Takafumi's cock isn't exactly a reigning champ at keeping it in.

And Takafumi a virgin in all meaning of the word.

No girlfriend. No one night stands. Not even a mixer-induced quickie from the few times he's gone to one.

Living in Tokyo makes him more than just the Watanabe boy. He's a working NEET. A man of his own domain and spending money.

And now to have that taken from him... Takafumi's head stews, male thoughts fighting with female impulse. And it's strange and scary how simple, how easy, he's taking to this new form. As if the gods were correcting a mistake. He's the Watanabe girl. One of many pink-faced sisters dragging home boys and happily eavesdropping on Mother and her friends. Never alone. Never not biting their lips and holding back their moans. Always with a boyfriend or a girl, swapping spit out on the bleachers and bribing him not tell Father.

Takafumi is still in the position he eased the phantom in.

Bent over his own desk. Thighs and hips a glow from faint rosy fingerprints bruising. The humiliation should make him red in the face. And yet, he's horny. Pink-faced. Perhaps his love life has only been in the shitter because he never met the right girl. And now he has. The right guy. Kinda. Thinking about gender and bodies is making Takafumi's head hurt. His legs are open. His hips rubbing restlessly against each other. Cock or no cock, Takafumi is hot all over. Sweat breaking out over his fair skin. Peach pale roasting into strawberry bright.

And his tail wags, fanning his need and female scent into the air.

Takafumi pants into the wood, the force of his breath shaking the desk slightly. Or it might be his body and upper chest causing the chaos. Arms and hands digging deep, nails claws. Shoulders and neck rocky like a boat on rough waters. Trembling in want. Quivering in need.

The glare of his three computer screens beam on his tipsy form. They reflect. They torment.

He sees all too clearly his new body. Large breasts. Dainty shoulders. Long red frizzy hair. Constellations made of sunny freckles along his collarbone. His horns, large and white and of a cow. They sit soundly on both sides of his head. The tips sharp and glinting in the modern light.

And as human-shaped he looked, there was no denying of Takafumi's feral form.

More of a persistent feel than something he could easily spot. Inhuman. Predatory. Some parts show under Takafumi's search. Muscles defined. Womanly assets firm and slight. Wild eyes. He looks deeper in them. Animal eyes. The sort that killed. The sort that struck first.

He is no farm cow but a thing of the wild.

And Takafumi's tail is wagging in the place of his cock.

He's hard. He's so hard. But the arousal isn't moving towards his groin. It's everywhere. His arms. His legs. Back. Front. The nape of his neck. The middle of his back. They all... tingle. And that may not be the right word for it. But they do. Excitement stirs within his blood. His nerves peak. Pores opening. Pheromones releasing. He sweats. He simmers. He lusts.

Takafumi pants harder. His body switching from confusion to anticipation.

Goosebumps swarm the freckled skin. The sensation both weird and right. If his family saw him now... The Watanabe girl. Takafumi scoffs. But hides into his arms. Face and more ready to be fucked into the desk. He might be blushing. He might be inching out his ass just a bit more. Not that he cares about the arrangement. Him being rutted by her. Him now a girl. Takafumi can't really envision what is going to happen. He only know his male perspective and what edited shots cheap internet porn had to offer. The woman moaning. Close ups of her pussy and gyrating body. But being on this end, waiting and wanting, it intoxicates him.

Takafumi blushes harder and, quietly, deliberately, presents his ass.

A slight shake. A deniable shake. But a shake all the same. Him wanting Cask to get on with it. Takafumi can feel her eyes, boiling him under her intense stare. Her breath mists across his shoulders. His skin as tensed as it can get. She's watching him flounder in her body. Around him, over him, Cask lingers, only watching. Not in him. Not taking him like a mate should. And Takafumi supposes, he has to be one to say something. Let Cask hear him beg for it. And that, that alone, makes him wet. He can feel his thighs become damp. His slit oozing out female fluid. It's hot and gooey, slipping and slathering down his needy fair hips.

But where did that word come from? Mate.

He tries to think where that thought emerge. Why would he think it? He's still him. He is still Takafumi Watanabe, your average Japanese slacker. But his mind bubbles and burns, the need to sate lust rising over his need to know.

This was normal for a mating rite, his instincts inform.

The bull courts the mare. The bull waits for the mare to succumb to her rut. They breed for the goddess.

"Stop that." Takafumi shouts at the tail. Trying to keep cool. "You're ruining the moment here."

Because Cask hasn't fucked him yet.

He glares at the limb. Long and thin and white, the tail would've been cuter on a real girl. The very tip covered in red brush-like hairs. "Listen to me, you idiot. I can't concentrate. With you. Breathing on me and not sticking your big nice cock into my-" he sputters and dives right into a silent embarrassed shriek. "Ignore me. Just ignore me!" he growls out. "It's my cock and I can say stuff like that all the time." Takafumi babbles. "My cock is nice."

His traitorous tail wags even more.

"Why aren't you-" Takafumi starts to say. He isn't sure who he's talking to now. Her. The tail. Himself. But his mouth keeps going, lips burning all the while. "Look, I'm not interested in staying the whole night like this. Can we get on with it?" he swallows, the gulp loud in his ears. "Please."

"Please what." Cask's nose falls into his bushy locks, inhaling deeply. "I want to hear what you want."

"Does it really matter?"

He can hear the smile in her voice.

"Of course it does. Tell me how to make you feel good. Tell me how to make you mine."

Her words echo in his ears. His face feels flush. His breath faint. Just why did her words affect him so-

"I-" Takafumi's voice cracks. His tail switches tactics, choosing to arch across his back. Freely showing Cask a full view of where and why he needs her. Cool air skates across his yearning folds, Takafumi's overworked breath now a weak dwindling plea.

"I-I want," he tries again, "I need you to fuck me."

The tip of his tail dips low towards his soft mound. Primal and raw, an all-consuming instinct floods through his core. For a moment, Takafumi simply isn't. He's gone. His thoughts evaporates. His worries and more now dust rolling in the emptied out wilderness of his mind. The broodmare asserts himself in his body, a unmated heifer.

The broodmare's womb aches for seed. The broodmare longs for comfort and touch.

His sense's sharpen. The tail, on reflex, pushes apart his pink pussy lips. His scent has changed. Thick and hot and overpowering. The broodmare widens his legs further. He doesn't speak. This is a conversation of flesh. This is a conversation of yoking their bodies into one. He noses at the air, his tail whipped into a frenzy.

The broodmare's tail flicks across his dripping slit, slathering the brush part in his sweet juice.

Once wet, the tail finds its way to Cask. A mating rite. A show of interest.

Cask rubs her fingers across his tail, lips kissing along the coated limb. "You look beautiful like this, Husk. You wear my body well." Then she bites. Gently. Marking him with her teeth. "Signaling for me." Cask pulls his tail straight and winds the cow limb around her arm, stretching it even further.

Taut like a string, his tail spasms, trapped.

Cask makes her way down the length, nipping and biting until she reaches the tender flesh of his dock. The expanse of skin between his tail and rump. She slides her tongue up and down the sacred place, scenting and attending to the dock with care. The broodmare stomps in place, shaking everything nearby. The desk. The screens. The devices that fall and crack on the floor.

Her mouth grazes along the skin, teasing the empty broodmare.

Then Cask marks. Biting hard until the skin breaks. Blood spills down the bond-mark before it is lapped away by her soothing tongue. The broodmare's hips automatically tilt up, thighs and more trying to back into where Cask's cock might be. The first of many yoking to be had this night.

A finger slides into the broodmare's drenched hole. The sensation overwhelms him.

He squeezes around her, throwing his hips back and forth. Attempting to milk this finger inside her delirious walls. So sensitive and horny, the broodmare cums within seconds. Clenching to keep the digit in. Cask pats his head. The feel of her palm a brief respite to the flames stirring inside his body. He needs more. Wants more.

But for now, for now only, the broodmare ebbs away.

Takafumi's mind surfaces. Blurry and drunk in the secondhand afterglow, he groans into the desk.

"Was that it?" he rasps, body still strumming in lust and urge. "I don't feel like that was it." His back aches. His knees shake. He wants to be fucked on his back. He wants to be fucked on the floor, hips high and in receiving position for foals.

Takafumi blinks. Foals. Just where was this crazy coming from?

"Of course not, it was one of many mating rites." Cask speaks, a dreamy sigh in her voice. "We needn't go through them all unless you want to be made ripe with our children. Can you imagine it?"

She whispers into his ear, her words carrying images weakening his will to not envision it.

"You given the gift of child. Round and pregnant and utterly insatiable for many months. Your breasts full and filled, your mounds milked for the benefit of all. I couldn't appease your appetite for long. We'd call for men of many shapes and form. Beastmen and monsters having you day and night until you're too far along to ask for more. My beautiful broodmare."

Takafumi perks up at that.

"What did you just call me?"

Cask kisses the back of his neck. He shivers.

"You don't like it?" she asks. "Broodmare. " she says. "And I do mean it in the fondest of ways."

Takafumi ducks his head.

"I like it." he warily admits. "Can you say it again?"

"My beautiful broodmare signaling for me."

"Oh god." His body arches, the praise electrifying his nerves and more. "Oh god." he repeats. "I'm your broodmare." the words come out easier than he might have liked. Broodmare. Another foreign thing now normal in his mouth. And somehow, he clings to it. "You're my bull."

My mate.

"We are Cask and Husk." she intones. Cask speaking to him as if he is supposed to know the difference. They feel like the same thing. They are the same thing, the broodmare whispers from the darker depths of his mind. He'll win his mate over. "Such sweet words like broodmare and bull aren't for us. We aren't yoking for children."

"Why not?"

"We aren't meant for such things."

Cask places her hands on Takafumi's hips and guides him onto her lap. Now on Cask's legs, he sits up. Boxers flimsier than he remembers up against his bare ass, longer legs propping up his. They were like this before. Him below and her above. And they still are, he now waiting for her move. Her direction.

He wonders if it's pathetic on how easily he's given to her. It was, wasn't it? And yet, he continues-

"Touch yourself for me." Cask says, hooking one hand under his knee and bringing up his thigh. To balance himself,Takafumi leans his other leg on the desk. With his legs open, he gets an eyeful of himself. And it's more than just an eyeful. Might even be called the whole peepshow. Takafumi swallows loudly. He sees his pussy. Pink. Perfect. Glossy with womanly essence. Takafumi's thoughts turn filthy. His pussy. Those two words shouldn't be together and yet they are before his eyes.

He thinks little of Cask's request. No shame. No lack of resolve.

Brings his hand to his lower lips, sweet juices warm and wet under his fingertips.

And then he sees a program he's clicked on by accident earlier. The web camera. One single red dot shining back at him. A program window gleefully recording the spectacle he's made of himself. He flinches, the monster girl in the video a copycat to his actions. Horns. Tail. But the other things make him pause.

Two round things hanging off his torso. Breasts. The size and shape two handful worth.

"Touch yourself for me." Cask says again, fingers massaging his knee. "I want to see your pleasure."

"I'm-" Afraid is what he means to say. All this time, Takafumi has been waiting for the other shoe to drop. For something to kick in. Guilt. Shame. Self-preservation. And it just hasn't. The web cam watches him, happily recording his distress. In his thoughts, he might be okay with thinking he had a pussy but to see it in person...

Takafumi bites his lip.

"What's wrong?"

"I can't." he mutters, trying to hide his face from the camera. He's stupid. He's dumb. "I'm not really a-" God, what was wrong with him?

"Hmm... I suppose that it was too forward for me to ask outright."

Using her free hand, Cask snakes down to his peaking slit and thumbs his hole. Takafumi's hips jerk up. "U-hh." the not-word escapes his lips. "It feels-" She brushes up against his stiff clit, encouraging it to swell and throb. "Please, go harder there." Then down to his hole. Her index finger circling the entrance.

Takafumi rocks up into her hand, chasing the building pleasure.

It's different compared to what he does when he's in the mood. Jerking off, he means. Not only the obvious parts but where gratification goes. Again, it's everywhere. Again, it's not. He feels his pleasure pool towards his clit but also cascade elsewhere. His arms and legs. His mouth and eyes. Tears prick his eyelids. His mouth waters. It's all different in a good way.

Her fingers enter him. First one. Then two.

Such a small hole, Takafumi wonders if he can really take them. They look so big. Her knuckles bobbing in and out. He feels them on the inside, stretching and parting his walls. The web cam records. Catching every twitch and shake of his legs and hips. He's like a puppet on strings, dancing under her masterful hands.

Soon there are three digits, pushing and playing inside him.

A fourth finger pushes in, packing his oversensitive hole with more knuckles than he can handle. They skim over these hidden spots within him. Bundles of sensitive nerves and more.

Cask's fingers working together, they remind him of a cockhead and suddenly, he loses it.

Takafumi thrusts up into her hand, his moves uncoordinated and first slow. A tight knot of something growing in his belly. Then he rocks into a steady rhythm. Learning how to use this body of his. Breathing out when he moves up, breathing in when he moves back.

"Do you feel like touching yourself for me, now?"

Her words barely connect. Takafumi still thrusting even when she takes her fingers out. Annoyed at his hole being left unsatisfied, he takes to it himself. The web cam watches. The time counter going up and up. He could turn it off. Part of him wants to. But the rest likes the third set of eyes. Showing him how he looks. His fingers find his hole and he slides in, sloppily scissoring his loosened walls.

While he's distracted with that, a sound of sloshing enters his ears.

Cask cups his breasts, twisting and tapping on the rings of darker pink flesh that surround his nipples. Erect, his nubs are wider and longer than a human's. Udder-like and pliant. They extend under her pleasant prodding, fat and flushed into a cherry-red color. Taking each nipple between her index finger and thumb, she milks them. Tugging the tit-flesh back and forth, summoning something warm and heavy to rush to his swaying mounds. Then she blocks his nubs, preventing the liquid from escaping.

Takafumi moans, his body heating up under his hand and her touch.

And his breasts ache, rippling and sloshing even more. Takafumi's eyes flutter close. His breath loud and lewd. He can't believe his ears. Flighty moans and desperate gaps. All of his body is shaking, nerves lit and sparking in bliss. He breathes and falls, orgasming then and there. From his feet, to his legs, to his hips and to the rest, the pleasure surges through his weak frame. A wave of white pushes him out of his mind and into the stratosphere and beyond that. Into the very stars. He cries out, thighs and knees buckling, feet curling and back arching in his mate behind him.

Cask squeezes his nipples and they swell, inflating under his eyes.

Now the size of melons, they sag under the weight of fresh milk and tit-flesh. "For your first time you've produced a pretty set of girls, Husk." She moves away from his nipples and palms the underside of his breasts. "So full and juicy." White drops dot his nubs, bright and pale on his reddened skin. "You've made me quite thirsty attending to you." she whispers, pinching his huge tits. "Should I take a sip?"

Takafumi opens his mouth and the broodmare's moo slides right out. He pales.

Cask laughs.

"I'll take that as a yes."

The phantom starts with his left breast, one hand kneading another to work the new growth. From where his breast begins to where it stops at the ring of flesh, she massages. Takafumi collapses against her, his limbs loose like noodles. His breasts throb. The milk inside weighty and distracting, he keens into the air. The sound far more beast than human. In no time, the white richness begins to drizzle down his chest. Streaks of silvery alabaster outlining his reddened curves and shape.

Cask moves to his other breast, giving it the same treatment.

Takafumi's breasts are still full, still brimming with milk. But the massages have relaxed away the pain-pleasure that ached him. He could almost fall asleep like this. Takafumi rests the back of his head against her shoulder. Baring his neck to his mate. He wants to be marked. He wants to be fucked. But he's too weak for the broodmare to wrestle his way. It's so simpler to submit to her touch. Takafumi falls into a light doze.

Her fingers tiptoe back to his nipples, pinching his nubs to come together.

"Husk." Cask says gently. "Husk, I am going to need you to get up. I don't want to milk you without a bucket being nearby." Takafumi snorts, unwilling to budge. "Don't make have to treat you like a stubborn sow." He keeps his eyes shut. "Oh, so you feel like being naughty now?"